The Chronicles of The Twilight 25
by bananapancakes7
Summary: A series of twenty-five prompted one-shots/drabbles over the course of three months. Please be sure to check each individual chapter for the prompt, rating, and pairings. Happy reading.
1. Crave

**And The Twilight Twenty-Five begins. I've got until December 1st to come up with a series of 25 one-shots and/or drabbles (those are 100 words--no more, no less--in case you're wondering why they're so short) that were inspired by twenty-five prompts. None of these pieces are going to be related to one another, nor do they have to do with the other story I'm working on. I'll be shocked if I can actually complete this challenge, but I'm doing it because one of my favorite ladies, queenofgrey, was awesome enough to think of it. It'll be fun. Rock and roll.**

**For more information on other participants or insight on the other prompts, please go to thetwilight25(dot)livejournal(dot)com**

* * *

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

Prompt: 3. Crave

Pen name: bananapancakes7

Pairing: Edward/Bella

Rating: M

-:-

I stood in the shower's doorway, watching rogue drops of water cascade down Edward's back in a wet path, inviting my eyes to stare. The plush towel around his waist was criminal in its very purpose; its tucked corner held loosely, hugging his hip, screaming to be undone.

My heart pounded zealously in rhythmic lure, hunger, and stimulation.

He turned as I moved, my hands ridding him of the swathe, and I pressed my naked body to his immaculate form in a fevered longing. My hot breath panted against his cheek as I whispered in raw desperation:

"_I need you_."


	2. Awkward

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**Forgive the Effed Up formatting. Fanfiction's having issues. I cheated and pasted this into an old upload.**

**Anyway, let's just pretend the danger of Victoria doesn't exist. Bella can be home by herself without everyone freaking out. Rock on.**

-:-

The Twilight Twenty-Five

Prompt: 2. Awkward

Pen name: bananapancakes7

Pairing: Bella/Charlie

Rating: M

-:-

_Lather, rinse, repeat. And repeat again._

I rubbed a third handful of shampoo into my hair, evoking another wafting aroma of strawberries and cream into the misty steam that swirled from my ankles to my shoulders. I sighed, running my fingers through my tresses unenthusiastically, closing my eyes as the sudsy water ran down my face.

There was no reason to rush through my nightly routine, for Edward wasn't going to be waiting for me with his open arms and mellifluous voice to hum me to sleep. I had a very lazy Sunday night to myself--Charlie was working late and Edward was out performing "an unfortunate necessity," as he called it, with Carlisle, Jasper, and Emmett. A boy's night out, per se. Or, in simple terms, a hunting trip.

Though I hadn't pouted in front of Edward as he kissed me goodbye, behind the shower curtain, I couldn't help but let my true colors show. Embarrassingly, I felt like a lonely puppy who's owner had gone on vacation.  
_  
Ugh, now you're pining. It's not like you won't see him at school tomorrow. Distract yourself._

I sighed heavily, thinking that my hair wouldn't be able to withstand another handful of shampoo or conditioner. Every inch of my skin was clean, slick, and smooth. I supposed I should just get out; there really wasn't anything else for me to do…

My eyes focused on the stream of water falling from the brand-new, removable, seven-spray shower head that Charlie had recently installed. I had purchased it almost a week ago to replace the old, dilapidated one after being sprayed with rusty residue for the _last _time, and it wasn't until now that I realized I hadn't even taken advantage of the different spray settings.

Curiously, I unlatched it from its holder and studied the little illustrations on the large dial. I spun it once and the steady spray that was flowing suddenly changed into a full, misty drizzle. I giggled at the tickling sensation and spun it to the next setting. An intense charge of water shot out, making me squeal, wondering who could ever enjoy the sting of something that had the power of a fire hose. I aimed the head away, thinking that it might be safer to let the wall take the brunt of whatever was coming next, and turned the dial again. Large beads of water shot out in rapid-fire, like a little water machine-gun, pounding against the wall with echoing thumps--almost how my heartbeat sounded when I was around Edward.

_Edward_.

Just the thought of his name sent my body awash with pleasing chills; it was only the tenth hour of our separation, and I was already aching for the feeling of his arms around me and his lips against mine--and if it was a good night, maybe he would have even let me wrap my legs around him…

I aimed the water at my hand and huffed slightly as the spot between my legs pulsed gently, knowing full well that Edward had no intention of letting me get any further than _that_, if anything. He spoke of being with me forever, yet when I even so much as physically or verbally suggested any kind of _sensuous _activity, he would simply shake his head, throwing around words like "dangerous," or "marriage."

_I am eighteen years old. I have needs, too, damn it._

The water beating against my palm brought me out of me haze, and I narrowed my eyes in thought. I _was _alone, after all. No Charlie…no Edward…just me and my shower head.

I let my breath out slowly, a mixture of shy embarrassment and excitement building as my body responded to the thought of what I was about to do. Positioning my right leg on the ledge of the tub, I lowered the shower head to my most sensitive area, concentrating on hitting the right spot. A minute passed as I daydreamed, and as the water palpitated, I rubbed my finger against my slightly swollen bump and the pressure of both made me groan in pleasure.

It was so easy--instantly, I imagined Edward's hand doing the work, sliding up and down in perfect precision, the icy tip of his finger meshing with the hot water--I knew the switch of temperatures would have me moaning in desire.

_Holy shit. Did that noise come out of you?!_ Involuntarily, the sound I'd imagined had come to life, straight out of my mouth. _It's okay. No one's home…enjoy this._

I continued, stopping every now and again to let the massaging beads of water do their magic, and lustful swells of blood seemed to rise and fall through me in a strong current. I began to pant in a careless pattern, sweeping my finger across my skin over and over, closing my eyes to envision his face once again. The persistent beat of the water mirrored my heart rate, and his golden eyes were the first thing I saw in the darkness.

"_Oh, my God_," I cried shakily, sucking in another breath, only to exhale just as fast.

I bit my bottom lip, unsuccessful in restraining a wild moan as the rhythmic pelt of the water pulsated against my heated center. Every burst increased my arousal--it felt stronger, warmer--I was seconds away from release. The tingling ecstasy spread from my groin to my legs, and I could see Edward clearly in my mind, pressing down upon me and nipping at my skin, his mouth brushing against my navel--my name forming upon his lips just as he plunged his tongue down to satisfy--_intensify_--my craving--I could almost hear him--

"Bella?!"

The sound of the bathroom door banging open and a very loud, panicked voice rudely infiltrated my thoughts and sent my feet sliding across the slippery tub. I dropped the shower head and grabbed for something to steady myself as I fell, but only succeeded in ripping the shower curtain off its hooks as I landed hard on the bottom of the tub with a noisy--and painful--thud.

I stared in horror. "_D-Dad!_" I exclaimed.

Charlie was standing in the doorway, flustered, holding his gun in a ready-to-fire position. Thank God the shower curtain had come down with me, for it was the only thing keeping him from seeing me completely naked.

"What are you _doing?!_" I cried, clutching the plastic curtain, pulling it up to my neck.

"Are you all right?" he almost shouted, staring at me in bewilderment.

I scrunched up my face in confusion. "Yes! Get out!"

"I heard you crying," he accused, finally easing his grip on his pistol and lowering his hands. "I thought someone--I thought you--"

I gaped at him, feeling my face flush a telltale shade of red. _Oh, dear God. OhdearGodohdearGodohdearGod. _

Charlie's eyes narrowed toward the closet. "You're not _hiding _someone in here, are you?" he asked, his face turning its own shade of pink. "If _Edward Cullen_ is in that closet--"

I saw him reflexively tighten his grip on his gun.

"Are you--are you _kidding _me?" I cried. "_No_, he's not in there! You just _barged _in! He wouldn't have had time!" Actually, Edward would have had _plenty _of time to jump in there if such a situation were to ever present itself, but Charlie didn't know that. "I thought you were working!"

"I got off early," he said, cocking his eyebrow and staring at me with suspicious eyes. "Well, what were you doing, then?"  
_  
I was having fun with the shower head because my boyfriend's unavailable and wouldn't take away my 'innocence' even if he was here._

I stuttered incomprehensively, racking my brain for an excuse. "Singing," I blurted out. "I was just…singing."

"Singing?" Charlie asked, looking even more befuddled. "Sounded like you were in pain or something."

"_Dad!_" I yelled, horrified. "_Get out!_"

He finally shook himself out of it, muttered under his breath, and shut the door faster than it had opened, I presumed. I panted, looking around me in utter disbelief and mortification, reluctantly submitting to the fact that I had just missed the most mind-blowing orgasm I would have ever had, to date.

"God damn it," I whispered to the empty bathroom, lifting the shower curtain over my head in resignation.

* * *

"I'll buy a new shower curtain tomorrow," Charlie said with his mouth full.

After I had "recovered" from the shower incident and minutely mourned the loss of my 'O,' I got dressed in my pajamas and slunk down to the kitchen for a drink. Charlie was enjoying a heated plate of meatloaf and mashed potatoes that were covered in gravy, and a side of green beans. At least _he _was happy.

"Okay," I mumbled, pulling a glass out of the cabinet. If he hadn't been sitting right there, I would have stolen one of his six-packs and taken it to my room to try to forget everything that had just happened.

Charlie swallowed and took a sip of his own beer. "You didn't, uh, hurt yourself, did ya?"

I grimaced, thinking that my ass was going to have a bruise the size of a pancake. "No, I'm fine," I grumbled as I hoisted a large pitcher of iced tea out of the fridge.

I could hear Charlie's boot tapping on the linoleum floor. "Dinner's good, Bells."

"Thanks," I said, still not looking at him. I felt like there was a scarlet 'M' on my forehead.

"Honey, I didn't mean to come across that way," he said, sounding sheepish. "I think you have a very nice voice."

My hand shook slightly, causing me to miss the glass and slop iced tea on the counter. I tried not to appear appalled as I grabbed a paper towel to mop up my spill. "Thanks, Dad," I said quickly, keeping my eyes locked on the counter.

_God, this could not be any more awkward._

"Your mother used to sing in the shower, too," Charlie said thoughtfully. "You sound just like her, actually."

_Aaahh!_

"O-okay, g-goodnight," I stammered, abandoning the pitcher on the counter and grabbing my glass. I scampered for the stairs, leaving my mystified father behind.

_Ew. Ew. Ew. You do not sound like Renée. You do not, you do not, you do not._

Once I reached my room, I set my glass on my night table and buried my face in my pillow. I groaned, softly this time, not wanting Charlie to race up the stairs and give me an 'overprotective encore.' Thank God he was oblivious, or was at least pretending to be; though, I was pretty sure he wouldn't have made a comment about Renée if he'd had any inkling of what I'd been doing. I shuddered, repulsed at the very thought.

My cell phone's tinkering ring echoed throughout the room, and I lifted my head quickly, reaching over to grab it from my night table. My shoulders slumped slightly when I saw the name. Not Edward. Alice.

I opened my phone and sighed dramatically. "Hi, Alice," I mumbled, lethargically running my hand over my eyes.

"Hey, Bella," came her light voice, though tinged with an amused, teasing tone. "I saw that you had a…busy night?"

My eyes widened as Alice chuckled harmoniously. Her _visions_.

_Oh, fuck me._

-:-

**I don't know what's with me and the shower scenes. I think "The Woods" has too much UST. I guess this is my outlet. *snicker* Was it awkward enough for you?**


	3. Mirror

***Sigh* FF and its gremlins. I heard everyone was having trouble with their postings, and I still couldn't view the past one, so here it is again. Sorry if you got like 3 alerts for this!

* * *

**

-:-

The Twilight Twenty Five

Prompt: 10. Mirror

Pen name: bananapancakes7

Pairing: Carlisle/Esme

Rating: T

-:-

My legs entangled hers unvaryingly, sprawled across the grass of our chosen spot as we waited for the other to speak. Our emotions radiated in the air, stronger than the ethereal wind that lapped at our skin as the inconstant thunder growled thickly through the forest.

As I leaned my head inward, she copied me, and our lips met, synchronizing in tandem. When we parted, I could only stare in wide wonderment.

"What do you see?" Esme asked in softhearted curiosity.

I saw warmth. Splendor. Devotion. Surprisingly, I saw _myself_.

I had waited for centuries to find her.

My equivalent.


	4. Retribution

**If you don't like violence, please don't read this. I don't want to be responsible for causing people to get all wide-eyed and disgusted. But if you don't mind the icky stuff, proceed!**

-:-

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

Prompt: 15. Retribution

Pen name: bananapancakes7

Pairing: Edward

Rating: M

-:-

"_Run_," I hissed, venom jetting from my lips as I locked eyes with the terrified girl. "_Now_."

Her trembling form was hunched against the dumpster, hands still protectively over her head, as she peered through the darkness at me, then him--from one attacker to the next. She was shaken to her very core, and her heartbeat thrummed wildly in her chest, creating a vibrating bass in my ears. She was still in shock, undoubtedly thinking that, no matter what move she made, I would subsequently be pinning her against the ground next.

"I said _go_!" I snarled, a rumbling growl emanating deep within my chest.

Beginning to sob, she pushed herself to her feet, stumbling over her abandoned purse and took off down the alley, her clumsy footfalls sloshing through obsidian puddles of water. She gave one look over her shoulder, and only one, before disappearing around the corner. I would have to finish fast; it wouldn't take long for someone to find her--someone who she would cry her story to: how the man had assaulted her; how a demonic creature attacked _him_, and ordered her to run.

The fiend underneath me struggled, digging his fingers into my arms, and I could feel several of his fingernails break, tearing backward off his flesh. He would have screeched audibly if it wasn't for my thumbs pressing just far enough into his windpipe to destroy the sound, mirroring his cruel actions against the girl only moments before.

"How does it _feel?_" I snarled in his ear, latching my teeth around the fold of skin and ripping it from his head, causing a hot spurt of blood to spatter my face. My throat stung viciously at the scent. His silent scream wheezed through his mouth and I fluidly flung him to the side of the building, immobilizing him again as my fingers wrapped around his neck. He swung his hand to try and hit me, and I caught his flailing hand in my own and crushed his fist, feeling the bones pop and splinter to pieces. Instantly, I reiterated the strike to his other hand, then proceeded to dislocate his shoulders, rendering him unable of doing _anything _with his murderous limbs that would have suffocated the life out of the young woman. "Do you feel more like a _man _when you kill? Do you _enjoy _watching the life drain out of their eyes?"

His thoughts were running rampant now--pain, anger, terror, confusion--my crimson eyes glared back at me from his mind as he gazed at me in horror, tears streaking down the sides of his grimy cheeks. And I didn't feel one _ounce _of sympathy.

"We're not so different, then," I continued, shredding his shirt with my nails, dragging my fingers deep into his chest until his legs buckled and a hoarse whine spilled from his lips as I slackened my grip on his neck. His mouth formed a series of curses and apologies before repeating one word over and over and over…

"_Please_?" I echoed in a callous whisper, staring coldly into his eyes. "Did _you _stop when the others begged you to let them live?"

Images of numerous young girls and women flooded my mind; each screaming, crying, bleeding, naked--I blinked through the horrid pictures and growled wildly, lifting my foot to pulverize his groin, his own sick weapon of choice, and as he blanched and opened his mouth to scream, I plunged my teeth into his neck and tore a large chunk of his flesh out, spitting it onto the asphalt. His carotid arteries were exposed, already punctured, and phantom flames licked at my throat, compelling me to eradicate the veins and suck the pumping, succulent blood right out of him. Thirst overtook me and I suctioned my mouth over the wound, pulling in long swallows of plasma and gore, generously cooling the burn inside me…until one more thought--one more image flashed in his mind.

A woman. Grayish hair, laugh lines around her mouth and eyes, and a kind smile. Her hands outstretched, reaching for something--someone--

_Mom. Mom, Mom, Mom._

He wanted his mother.

I drew back at once and almost spit the mouthful of blood in his face, repulsed. Every one of them--every rapist and murderer that I killed had a moment like this--one last plea, one more thought of a certain loved one--but I knew better. One humane thought from this man didn't erase the endless images of the helpless victims that he'd so ghoulishly slaughtered. He was going to pay--and I _had _to finish.

I sucked the rest of him dry, until his body went limp and his heart strained to a stop, no longer full of anything to pump. I could hear voices off in the distance, leaving me with little time to destroy the evidence. Deciding that it wasn't worth trying to clean the scene, I lifted the body into my arms and ran, racing for the darkest streets, darting between homes, roads, and woods until what I was looking for came into view. Almost every state had one, and I was always careful to know its exact location in each town I visited: the incineration plant.

I dumped the man's--_the monster's_--body in with a load of garbage and waste that was waiting to be burned and turned, not looking back as I fled into the woods before I was noticed.

I swallowed mouthful after mouthful of venom, disgusted at the taste that was left on my tongue. The blood was not sweet; it was bitter and boiled inside me, and I shuddered, despising, yet thriving on the feral strength and hatred that it filled me with. I stalked the forest, breaking any branch, and destroying every bush and thorn that stood in my path. Suddenly, I stopped, darting my head to the west. I heard careful footsteps and grunting breath, and I tore in its direction, my mind already made up.

Because, after all, the man had been an _abolishment_, not my nourishment.

We collided, and the elk collapsed under my weight and kicked its hulking legs in defense, trying to buck me off its back. My teeth lithely cut through the fur, lipids, and muscle, and blood pooled into my anxious mouth as I sucked, gulping the bland liquid as a drunk would with their liquor. The elk's massive form quivered, then stilled only seconds before I finished, and I gasped in the frosty, night air with my head raised to the trees. I caught a small trickle of blood under my lip with my tongue, and released the animal, gently laying its head to its final resting place.

I stood, brushing off my clothes, and ran swiftly, both the human and animal blood mixing inside me with an intense fury, making me unstoppable as I moved fast enough to create my own wind. Nocturnal creatures couldn't even dart to safety, as I had passed them before they even sensed that I was coming. I was a killer; a hunter; but ultimately, a vigilante. Though I would pay, certainly, for my sins, I found the smallest bit of solace that the girl was safe, and vengeance was mine.


	5. Aesthetic

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

Prompt: 1. Aesthetic

Pen name: bananapancakes7

Pairing: Edward/Bella

Rating: K+

-:-

I was thankful for a cloudless evening, for luminescence was serving me graciously. My skin glistened by the light of day; yet, Bella's glowed by night.

"Beautiful," I whispered to her sleeping form.

The moonlight highlighted her features; I traced my finger over a scar along her shoulder--a seesaw accident from kindergarten. Her tautened eyes showed the crinkling lines that she complained made her look too mature. Warm blood swelled in her lips, which she believed could never satisfy me, for they didn't match the iciness of my own.

She thought herself flawed. But to me, she was perfection.


	6. Erosion

-:-

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

Prompt: 5. Erosion

Pen name: bananapancakes7

Pairing: Edward/Bella

Rating: K+

-:-

He came in the dead of night, a beautiful addition to the frozen sprinkle of snow crystallizing my window pane, and gazed through, structured in unconditional, eternal perfection and youth. In complete contrast, I sat hunched, wrinkled, gray… yet, just as lost as the day he'd left me.

Years had washed over me like waves, corroding my heart and wearing away my hope. The window opened, and he stared. His amber eyes were penitent, but I was still one step closer to death, battered by the cruelest, slowest destruction: time.

"I waited for you," I whispered abrasively. "You're too late."


	7. Voracious

-:-

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

Prompt: 22. Voracious

Pen name: bananapancakes7

Pairing: Emmett/Rosalie

Rating: M

-:-

All I wanted was recognition for my hard labor. A _'Thank you.' _A '_This smells great, honey.' _Instead, he said: "Oh, I'll give you some _hard labor_, babe."

Not planning on having another meal ruined by Emmett's overeager libido, I informed him we'd be doing _nothing laborious _until after dinner. Now, I was watching butter stream down his chin as he fervently crammed copious amounts of fettuccini noodles into his mouth.

I snorted with laughter. "Oh, fuck it, let's just go to the bedroom."

He was out of his seat and lifting me from my chair before I could blink.


	8. Juvenile

-:-

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

Prompt: 8. Juvenile

Pen name: bananapancakes7

Paring: Edward/Bella

Rating: M

-:-

"Honestly, Bella, how many more batches are you going to make?" Edward asked through yet another yawn. "You've got more cookies than Emmett could handle, and that's saying something."

My back was to him, but I smiled anyway. "I promised Carlisle I'd make ten dozen. And it never hurts to make extra, so..."

A muffled groan was his response. I couldn't really blame him for being impatient; after all, he'd endured hours of helping me knock out pan after pan of baked goods for a bake sale fundraiser at Forks Community Hospital, which was to take place the next morning. The brownies were finished, and we were now nearing the home stretch with the cookies, and needless to say, it was not Edward's idea of a fulfilling Saturday night.

"You'd think that a hospital wouldn't be keen on promoting such an unwholesome diet, anyway," he complained in a bored voice.

"They're just trying to raise money," I replied, whisking a bowl of eggs, butter, and brown sugar. "Will you see if there are any extra pecans in the cabinet?"

Edward was sitting on the counter, boyishly swinging his legs back and forth, watching me. He lazily reached up and, for the umpteenth time, opened a cupboard to check the shelves for a random ingredient that I needed. "You have walnuts…and almonds. And you asked me that five minutes ago."

I glanced up at him with a frown. "Well, then why did you look?"

"Why didn't you remember?" he grumbled, leaning his head on his fist.

I sighed and poured a teaspoon of vanilla into my bowl. "Because I've been baking for hours, that's why. I can't even remember what we ate for dinner."

"That's because we didn't _have _dinner," he said, sliding off the counter and stretching his shoulders.

_We didn't? _Maybe that was why my stomach felt so hollow.

"What time is it?" I asked, and turned to glance at the microwave's clock for my answer; it was after _ten _o'clock! I turned back to Edward, my mouth hanging open in shock, and he raised his eyebrows at me, as if to say '_Yup.' _"Oh, shit."

No wonder he was cranky. I'd guaranteed him a homemade meal in exchange for helping me play Martha Stewart, and here, I'd been too wrapped up in butterscotch batter, coconut flakes, and chunky chocolate chips to remember my promise.

"I'm sorry," I said, shaking my head. "I didn't even realize…why didn't you say something? You could have made a snack, or reminded me, at least."

He brushed off his shirt, which was covered in flour and bits of dried cookie dough. "Well, far be it from me to interrupt you mid-rolling pin to inquire about food. I might have gotten beat."

I smiled halfheartedly and reached up to brush my hair out of my eyes, which resulted in leaving my cheekbone adorned with a smudge of whipped butter-sugar substance. Edward chuckled, securing my hips with his hands, and pulled me away from the mixing bowl.

"I suppose I could settle for having dessert, instead," he said, kissing my forehead before moving to my cheek, licking and sucking off the sugar. "Hmm, not bad. I could use a bit of _these_, maybe…"

And with that, he moved his mouth to mine and pulled me tight against his body. His lips were smooth and avid, and my eyes nearly rolled back in my head from the sensuous effect…or maybe from the smooth glide of his hands down my sides…or because I could actually feel his warm, hard muscles against my stomach…

_No, no, no! No distractions!_

Groaning, I pulled away, though reluctantly. "Not yet, I have to finish baking first," I said, stroking his chest with my free hand, as my other was still clutching a batter-dripping whisk.

Edward blew out his breath, but didn't release me. "Geez. No dinner…no love…"

I rolled my eyes and poked his cheek with the whisk, leaving a few blobs of sugary butter on his pristine skin. "I do love you. And will you settle for spaghetti? You could make that while I finish. I promise I'll make you whatever you want tomorrow."

"I've heard _that _before," he joked, wiping his cheek and sampling the batter off his finger with a seductive smack of his lips. "But yes, _chef_. Carry on."

He turned to walk toward the stove, but I pulled his arm, stopping him. "Wait," I said, standing on my toes and wrapping my hand around the back of his neck, tugging him close. "You missed a spot."

I brushed my lips over his once more before sweeping my tongue lightly along his cheek, removing all traces of sugar, and then, just for fun, sucked right under his earlobe. I giggled as Edward's fingers dug into my back, and he grunted as I sank back down on my heels, leaving a gap between us.

"Tease," he mumbled as he retrieved some pots from a cabinet.

Ten minutes later, spaghetti noodles were boiling, my pecan sandies mix was complete, and I had just packed the last of the cooled cookies into their appointed containers.

"And, _voila!" _I said after I stacked the canisters into neat piles in brown paper bags, and picked up the bowl of remaining cookie dough. "I just have to bake _these_, and we're finished."

"Why don't you bake them after dinner?" Edward suggested, pouring himself a glass of water. "The sauce will only take a few minutes to heat, and the noodles are almost done."

I sucked a dot of batter off my thumb and set the bowl to the side, smiling. "In a hurry, are we?" I asked, starting to load dirty dishes into the dishwasher.

He took a quick sip of water and stole a look at his watch. "Bella, I've put in…_four _hours of channeling Betty Crocker with you, and since I'm the executive chef at the moment, I command that you take a break from _this_."

He dipped his finger in the golden mixture, and instead of stealing a taste like he'd been doing all night, he daubed the glob of dough on the tip of my nose.

"Hey!" I cried, stepping back and nearly falling into the open dishwasher. I chuckled, regardless, and wiped my face with a dishtowel. "Oh, you'd better watch out, now."

Edward smirked and unscrewed the lid from a jar of garlic and herb pasta sauce. "Like I said, you're speaking to the executive chef. All complaints can be given to my assistant," he said, pointing to the trashcan.

I opened my mouth in mock ire and stepped close to him, grasping and pulling his shirt collar until his head was right above mine. "This is _my _apartment, and _my _kitchen," I said, playfully firm. "Head chef trumps the executive."

"Not when they're shorter," he teased, using his deep, melodic voice that he _knew _made my knees weak.

_Sexy fucker. You just wait. _

Keeping my grip on his shirt, I leaned in until my mouth was centimeters away from his, and just as his eyes closed, I grabbed the glass he'd been drinking from, and dumped it over his head.

Edward's body twitched, but he didn't jump back or shout an expletive; he merely blinked through the water that was trickling down his face, and stared at me in shock. I backed away slowly, beginning to giggle at the sound of the liquid splattering on the linoleum, and the sight of his hair, matted to his forehead. He licked his lips and ran a hand over his face, exhaling slowly.

"Are you proud of yourself?" His voice was serious, but I could tell by the glint in his eyes that he wasn't angry. At least, I didn't think he was.

I bit my lip, still snickering. "A little bit."

He cleared his throat and turned back to the stove. "All right, then," he said quietly--calmly. _Too _calmly. I watched him carefully as he picked up a spoon and dunked it in the jar of tomato sauce, and began to stir it casually.

"_Edward_," I said, chuckling, "you're not _mad_, are y--" But then I fell silent as he stepped toward me, holding the spoon, which was overflowing with the zesty, red marinara. He raised his eyebrows, and I gazed at him skeptically as he slowly spun the utensil between his fingers until it was aiming at me in a ready-to-launch position.

"Oh? Did you have something to say?" he asked, feigning innocence.

I tilted my head, scrutinizing his expression, and started laughing. "Edward Cullen, you wouldn't _dare_."

But, apparently, he was feeling fearless, because, in the next second, a thick gob of chunky sauce spattered across my chest, and little, wet specks rebounded onto my cheeks. I gasped, agape, and a wide grin crossed Edward's face.

"Oops," he said mischievously, a frisky light dancing in his eyes.

_Oh. No. He. Did. Not._

Just as nonchalant as he had acted, I slowly reached onto the counter and flipped open a small carton, something that I was suddenly glad I hadn't yet put away. I picked up two eggs from their little Styrofoam seats, and turned back to Edward. "Say _oops _again."

"You can _try_," he taunted, flashing me another one of his winning smiles. "But you _will _not--"

Before he could finish, I launched one at him, which he dodged easily. It exploded on the wall behind him, but the second egg hit him on the shoulder, splattering slimy yolk down his arm. He glanced at his shirt, lifted his eyes back to me, and suddenly, the kitchen became our battleground, and anything we could reach stood as ammo.

A handful of raisins hit me in the face before I grabbed a bag of sugar, and a torrent of little, white crystals flew through the air like a thick flurry of snow. I burst into laughter as the granules clumped together, sticking to his wet hair, and I screamed in a girlish squeal, "Edward, no!" before he squirted me with the bottle of Hershey's syrup I'd used for the macaroons.

Between many animated screams and much comical teasing_, _a meteor-like shower of salt, more pasta sauce, chocolate chips, candy, and even my pecan sandies dough soared through the air, soaking and sticking to our clothes and faces, in addition to the walls and floor. Random food bounced around us, our shoes squeaked, and I shrieked with high-pitched giggles as he chased me around the kitchen. Once he caught me, I wrestled the chocolate syrup out of his hands and managed to spurt a stream of the sticky liquid into his hair, right before our eyes landed on the same thing.

On the table sat an innocent, untouched, half-empty bowl of flour.

We both lunged for the table, and we each managed to get a handful of the flour at the same time. He instantly threw his clump, but I turned my head and caught most of it in my hair, which sent little white clouds bursting into the air; I retaliated, but my foot slid on the slippery floor, and as I grabbed onto him, he fell backward and pulled me on top of him. Coughing on flour dust, and wrapped in each others arms, we cracked up to the point of tears.

"You look like the Phantom of the Opera," I gasped, still in hysterics. Half of his face was pricelessly layered in white powder, and he snorted, rolling over so that he was pinning me to the floor.

"_You _would frighten small children--you look like you're bleeding chocolate," he commented with a laugh. "I can't believe you hit me with an _egg_."

I giggled, remembering the look on his face. "_That's _an image I won't forget anytime soon. But remember, _you _started it!"

"_Me?! _Who poked who with the _whisk_, huh?"

"I--" I started to argue, but stopped quickly. He was totally right. Edward looked at me expectantly, eyebrows raised with a knowing grin, waiting for me to admit it. "You…were distracting me with your--"

_Lips. Hips. And everything below them._

"Excuses, excuses," he teased, and started tickling my waist.

"Edward, no--_no_, _don't_--stop it--_I'll bite you_!" I screamed, laughed, pleaded, and wriggled under his weight, but he always got a fucking kick out of watching me squirm around in manic laughter, and he didn't relent. I finally grabbed a handful of whatever-the-hell was on the floor and shoved it into his face, and he whipped his head back, still in a fit of hilarity over his tickle domination.

I almost choked on my own saliva as I saw a bright green M&M stuck to his forehead; it was flamboyant, compared to his own forest-colored eyes, but it still made him look hilarious, like he had grown a third eyeball. I would have dissolved into mirth, if it wasn't for the out-of-the-blue throat-clearing that didn't come from me, or Edward.

We both glanced over to the kitchen's doorway, and I felt my cheeks heat rapidly as I saw Alice standing in the entry. Neither of us had heard her come through the front door, and God only knew how much she'd witnessed. Her eyes were as wide as the freaking full moon, no doubt due to the fact that Edward and I were on top of each other in the middle of the kitchen floor, covered in a ridiculous amount of baking ingredients. At least our clothes were still on.

Edward grinned widely, and unabashedly said, "Oh, hey, sis." I bit my tongue to keep from laughing as the M&M fell off his forehead and landed on my chest.

Alice stared in shock, slowly narrowing her eyes back and forth at the candy-batter-sauce-chocolate-covered counter, floor, and walls. "Are those my Crate and Barrel potholders?" she finally asked.

I followed her gaze and saw, that somehow, in the middle of our food fight, Alice's precious _'just for show, not for touching' _yellow-knit potholders had been caught in the crossfire, and were now on the floor, covered in tomato sauce_._ And I knew _I_ hadn't been the one to grab them_. _I silently pointed at Edward.

Edward put his head down on my chest, snickering, then whispered under his breath, "Tattletale."

"Don't worry, Alice, I'm going to clean up, I promise," I said quickly. Edward rolled off of me and helped me to my feet. "And Edward will buy you new potholders."

"Mm-hmm," she said, pressing her lips together, still assessing the kitchen.

Edward snorted. "Oh, Alice doesn't want potholders," he said impishly, taking a few steps toward his sister. "She wants a hug, don't you?"

Alice held out her arm in horror to stop him and his egg, chocolate, and flour-covered clothes from coming closer. "Don't you _dare. _And you _will _get me potholders," she said, dashing down the hallway to her room. "And matching napkins!" she added loudly.

Edward and I stared at each other with identical looks of amusement, but my smile quickly faded when I noticed the pot of spaghetti practically bubbling over on the stove. "Oh, my God!" I said, running to turn off the burner. I sighed heavily, realizing that, in addition to the inevitable clean-up, we'd also have to find ourselves an alternate meal. "Well…do you want to take a shower while I clean?"

"What?" Edward asked, scoffing. "Like I'd let you clean this up all by yourself."

I shrugged, and started to tell him that it was no big deal, but he reached for me and lifted me into the air before I could speak. I gasped, giggled, and wrapped my legs around his back, threading my fingers through his wet, sticky, flour-filled hair. "Well, like you said--you didn't start it, so…"

"I want to help you clean, _because_," he said close to my ear, making me shiver, "I don't want to shower alone."

_Ah, who does? _I smirked at the thought of his unclothed body under a stream of hot water, and pulled at his hair, making it stick out it pointy tufts. "Mm, I like the sound of that," I whispered, leaning my head back as he kissed under my chocolate-covered neck.

"Do you have any peanut butter to mix with this? That would taste really good…_right_…_here_. Fuck dinner," he murmured, licking right under my jaw. I moaned softly, ready to lean in and capture his lips in mine, but before I could--

"Hey, look up, lovebirds."

Edward and I turned, once again, to the entryway, and were met with a sudden flash.

Alice was standing with her camera, fighting a smile. "I had to get a picture of this…Jasper would never believe that _you _messed up the kitchen, Bella…or that Edward actually has a faux-hawk."

Edward's hand shot up and he smoothed down his hair quickly, and I unraveled my legs from his waist and slid my feet to the floor, laughing again. "Oh, you think that's funny?" he asked me, and shook his sticky, dripping hair in my direction.

"Ew! Stop!" I squealed, smacking him in the chest with a spatula that was lying on the counter.

Alice snorted, and started walking back to her room, calling out, "You two act like kids!"

-:-

**FoodFightward. I wanna play.**


	9. Wood

-:-

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

Prompt: 24. Wood

Pen name: bananapancakes7

Pairing: Jacob/Bella

Rating: K+

-:-

His eyes used to radiate amity, affection, and vitality, and now his expression was dark, wooden. It was the rudest of awakenings as I realized that I barely recognized him. His skin was the same familiar russet, yet he was a foreign redwood; he'd outgrown me.

The slam of the door was his solid farewell.

He'd promised me I could always count on him to be there, unlike how I'd been left before. But his shoulders were no longer there for me to cry on; instead, they were scathingly cold.

He was the splinter, and I was the skin. Again.


	10. Crusade

-:-

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

Prompt: 4. Crusade

Pen name: bananapancakes7

Pairing: Edward/Emmett

Rating: M

-:-

Time was frozen, and our camaraderie was dead. His hands formed prayer over his lips, desperate for a solution to regain power. His eyes, which were once buoyant, were frantic now, as he assessed the battle in front of him.

After all, this was war, and precious time was slipping away. As he gazed from the slain to the surviving, I could see that he _knew _he didn't stand a chance.

"Damn it, Edward, stop reading my mind!" Emmett growled, knocking the chess pieces off the board. "That's fucking cheating!"

I laughed, settling back in my own personal throne. _Checkmate_.


	11. Walls

-:-

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

Prompt: 23. Walls

Pen name: bananapancakes7

Pairing: Edward/Rosalie

Rating: T

-:-

I couldn't deny that she was trying, with every fiber of her being, to make things right. Today, it was accompanying me on a hunt. She stood back as I fed, giving me the lion's share, as if the action might wash her hands of the blood, for which she'd almost been responsible.

"You can't ignore me forever. You have to let me back in."

Her voice was hesitant, pleading; I remained indifferent. She'd always been unnecessarily cold to Bella, and it was _her _mistake that had landed us in jeopardy.

"You built these walls, Rosalie. _You _break them down."


	12. Stagnant

-:-

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

Prompt: 19. Stagnant

Pen name: bananapancakes7

Pairing: Charlie--

Rating: K+

-:-

I used to trip over baby toys instead of old newspapers. The sound of Bella's echoing wail or laugh would resonate throughout the house; now, the only sound I heard, other than the television, was the hum of the empty refrigerator, which would never again hold Renée's homemade leftovers. Nothing moved, except me.

I sprawled across the dusty sofa and reminisced, remembering the few happy times Renee and I had together, and my beautiful, little Bella, who shared my curls and mahogany eyes. The thought made me smile, though it was fleeting.

Because they were gone, and time was stale.


	13. Sky

-:-

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

Pen name: bananapancakes7

Prompt: 16. Sky

Pairing: Alice/Jasper

Rating: M

-:-

I handed an extra blanket to a red-haired woman, who smiled gratefully as she tucked it around her cranky daughter. The little girl, who couldn't have been more than three or four, was whining softly and rubbing her ears, immensely bothered by the altitude.

"Is it okay for her to have some juice?" I asked softly, offering the woman a small juice box. "Swallowing can ease the pain, sometimes."

The woman gave me another appreciative look, accepting the drink. "Oh_, thank you_. I'll try anything."

"Of course," I said politely, and looked at the little girl. "Do you like apple juice, sweetie?" Her small bottom lip trembled slightly, and she leaned into her mother's chest as she nodded. I gave her a sympathetic smile and told the woman not to hesitate to push the call button if she needed anything else.

I made my way to the front of the plane, teetering somewhat from the slight turbulence, and swept my eyes over the practically empty rows. Once in awhile, the redeye flights were packed with businessmen and tour groups, but tonight was not such an occurrence. We had a grand total of twenty-two passengers in a plane built for two-hundred and ten, and needless to say, I was getting paid for doing almost nothing.

Everyone had been given their snacks and drinks, and besides fetching the occasional blanket or pillow for someone, there wasn't much else for me to do. It was quiet, except for the roaring engines outside, and most of the passengers had drifted off, as it was just past midnight; only a select few had their small overhead lights on, reading or scribbling over a crossword or Sudoku puzzle. Only one passenger sat awake and unoccupied--and I was doing my very best _not _to let my eyes linger in his direction for too long.

I walked into the flight attendant's quarters to find Rosalie fiddling with the coffee maker. "No tears, huh? I told you that you were a natural with kids," she said, smirking.

"I only gave her juice, Rose," I answered, smoothing my blouse. "I still can't quite work my magic without having to hand them snacks or coloring books." Rosalie had a natural gift for calming even the loudest children, making them smile and giggle with her charisma, or getting them to yawn, which eased their earaches--all thanks to her stories about _Sleepy Sally_.

"She was the _sleepiest _passenger there ever was…can you yawn as big as Sleepy Sally?" she would ask children, acting out a dramatic, elongated yawn. It worked like a charm, even though I always discreetly snorted from behind the curtain.

"So, what are you going to do with your three days in Milwaukee?" Rosalie asked casually, setting a mug under the coffee wand, and a steaming, coppery stream of caffeine swirled into the cheap, white cup. Watching the very action sent my body into instant craving--not for the caffeine, but for a totally different, fervent, scalded feeling of sin and sugar--

"…because I'm dying for a massage, and my _nails_…ugh, don't get me started. What do you think? Want to check it out?"

I blinked, realizing that I was staring into space, and nodded before I appeared too out of it. "Uh, maybe," I said, pretty sure that she was trying to sign me up for a spa day of some sort. I tugged at my short strands of hair, pursing my lips. "I'll let you know."

Rosalie shrugged. "Well, if you find something better to do, please _do _tell me," she replied, leaning against the opposite wall as I chuckled under my breath. She sipped her coffee, then grimaced as she stole a look back into the cabin. "Oh, no."

"What?" I asked.

"Looks like Mr. Frequent Flyer Miles is approaching his mid-flight malady," Rosalie said in a low voice.

I cautiously peeked around the blue curtain, and I didn't have to search the rows for the man in question--I already knew who she was talking about. My gaze went straight to Row 15, Aisle Seat B, the very area I'd tried to keep my eyes off of the entire evening. Sitting with white-knuckled hands, gripping the armrest with a ferocity, there he was. His face was one that I'd come to recognize from even the farthest distance, and the beauty of it never failed to make me forget to breathe.

"What is this, the sixth time we've seen him? Seventh?" Rosalie continued, creasing her eyebrows in concern. "With all the flights this guy's taken, you'd think he would learn to pop a fucking motion sickness pill by now. Besides, we've barely had _any _turbulence--"

"Some people are sensitive to the movement," I demurred, because it certainly seemed like he was under bodily stress at the moment. He wasn't pale, but flushed, and his golden blond hair was almost glistening, stuck to the sides of his face with what appeared to be sweat.

At that moment, his eyes met mine, and plane or no, I was airborne.

Rosalie, of course, interrupted our intertwining gaze by popping the tab of a ginger ale can and shoving it into my hand. The feel of the icy aluminum brought me back down to earth…well, technically, I was still in the clouds. But it was enough to keep me from full-on fantasizing over one simple stare from him, although I didn't think I should have to be held responsible for any possible, voluptuous daydreaming. His eyes were liquid allure, even with their traces of discomfort, and they tantalized me.

"That is all you," my flight-attendant comrade said, filling another small plastic cup with ice and placing it in my free hand. "I'll stick to the children--you deal with the airsick ones."

I didn't argue as she gave me a small push out into the walkway, and my normally lithe legs became fragile twigs, vaguely shaking as I strolled down the aisle. His eyes never left me in the whole six seconds it took to reach him.

I stopped at his seat, and proceeded to gaze at him with my mouth parted.

_Use your words, Alice. Use your words._

"Excuse me, sir," I said softly, and I was glad my hands were full of a cup and soda, or else I might have reached right out to stroke his shoulder that was hidden beneath his charcoal sweater, or even brushed a sweaty lock of hair off his forehead, right in front of everyone. "Are you feeling all right?"

His hand loosened from around the armrest and he slowly brought his second and third fingers to his lips--two full, moist playthings that I wanted admittance to have between my own. "I'm surviving, ma'am," he answered in a throaty voice.

I nearly forgot about the drink in my hand and almost started pouring it without holding the cup underneath, and even forgot to ask if he wanted it. "This might relieve your…" I trailed off as he took a slow breath, causing his wide chest to swell and deflate, and I, suddenly, had trouble emphasizing my point. I peeked back at the curtain, where I saw Rosalie eavesdropping, then quickly turned back to him. "Problem," I finished, swapping the already empty cup on his tray with the full, fizzing one.

His fingertips traced the cup's rim, and he gently grasped the sides, lifting it to his mouth. I watched him swallow, and it was the perfect aesthetically-pleasing muscle performance I'd seen from him…until he licked his lips.

_Oh, Jesus._

"Thank you," he said, still rasping faintly. "But I'm not sure that's what I need."

I nodded, and wanted to kiss away the condensation that remained on his hand. I spoke my next words carefully. "I understand. The restrooms in the back of the plane are more private, if you need one. We're light on passengers this evening."

He glanced over his shoulder, nodding his head in agreement before unbuckling his lap belt. Without speaking, I picked up his drink and locked his tray in its upright position, and the only sound he made was a sharp intake of breath before hastily making his way to the back of the aisle. I watched him until he entered one of the bathroom doors, and then returned to the staff's quarters.

I set his once-sipped soda on the counter and Rosalie screwed up her face in sympathy. "Ew. I'm glad we're not on the cleaning crew. Do you think he'll be in there as long as last time?"

I shrugged my shoulders halfheartedly. Frankly, I was more worried about my professionalism at the moment, because I was having very, very inappropriate thoughts, and if Rosalie noticed my change of demeanor, I'd be in trouble. Though, I already _was _in trouble, kind of. My middle was tingling, and my thighs were warm--all because of my familiar, woozy man in a sweater. Now, _I _was sweating.

Minutes passed. Turbulence jostled us. And my blood pressure had it's own record altitude as I stared at his empty seat.

"I suppose I should check on him," I finally said, darting my eyes to Rosalie, who held her hands up in submission.

"By all means, have at it," she said, holding out a small, hot towel reserved for first-class passengers before taking a seat, preparing to dive into a magazine. "You're getting to be a professional at taking care of this guy, now. This is the third time you've had to go help his businessman ass. Have you even told him your name, yet?"

I rolled my eyes, smirking, and snatched the hot towel. "I'll be back. If I'm longer than five minutes, you'll know I'm playing nurse," I answered, and made my way down the aisle, passing the seated passengers.

The plane shuddered as it flew through an air pocket, and I held onto the seats in order to keep my balance. The back of the plane was completely devoid of travelers, and from outside, the enormous cylindrical engines droned out almost every sound. I took a deep, calming breath as I reached the restrooms, and stepped up to the door that I last saw him enter.

I knocked twice. And then once. And then three more times. And the little red occupied slot slowly slid to green. _Vacant_. I opened the door slowly, peeking inside before _slipping _inside, and locked everything behind me.

He stood, leaning against the small sink, and greeted me with his smoldering, sky-blue eyes before breaking into a smug grin.

"And the Oscar goes to…" he said, gracefully turning over his hands so his palms faced the ceiling, "…Jasper Hale. Thank you very much. I'm honored."

I tossed the little towel to the counter and shook my head, and my lips grew to match his playful smile. "I'll give you that much. I almost believed you for a moment there."

Jasper reached out for my hands and tugged me closer. "Did I seem tense?"

"You played your part well," I almost sang, for I was deliciously taken in by his proximity, bewitching voice, and peppermint scent. Heat almost instantly began filling the modest compartment we were in. "Though, we could be fined, you know. You chose the handicapped-accessible bathroom."

"Like you said--light load of passengers," he said, kissing my cheek and I smoothed his "sweaty" hair, which I knew to be the melted ice from his first drink; he was sneaky like that. "I scanned the crowd…no one here will be in need of this one. Plus, I wanted the space."

I smiled. "So, if not the ginger ale, the _space _was what you were in need of?"

He gave me an amorous look, and instead of answering me with words, he pulled me into his arms and kissed me with an intensity that made my head spin. I grasped a handful of his honey-colored hair and moaned, realizing how _much _I had missed this.

"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, teasing me like that," he growled seductively as he broke our kiss, and slid his hands down my arms. Gooseflesh instantly rippled over my skin, and I could feel the delicate pressure against my blouse as my nipples perked.

A breathy whisper was my answer. "Teasing you?"

"You wouldn't even give me more than one glance," he said, inhaling deeply as my hands explored his hips. "Do you know how difficult that was for me to watch you walk around, in _that _skirt, of all things? Do you _know _what you were doing to me?"

His cheeks were flushed again, and his eyes were wide and sparkling. He snaked his hands around my ass and pressed his lap to mine, to let me feel _exactly _what I had been _doing _to him. I giggled, drinking in his look of longing, and leaned backward over the sink.

"I'm sorry," I murmured, wrapping my leg around his, letting the tall, thin heel of my shoe run up and down his calf. "I was afraid I'd give myself away if I granted myself too much of you. I'm shocked that Rose hasn't caught on by now."

"God almighty, let her stay oblivious," he said feverishly, grazing his lips against mine, and even through our clothes, I felt him--hard and straining against his zipper.

Our shoes were the first thing to go, and I worked on stripping off my nylons as he unbuckled his belt. We were used to this--the inelegant speed of removing clothes in a confined space; there was a certain time constraint under such conditions, after all. I hadn't said it to Rosalie, of course, but the only thing I planned to do with my three days in Milwaukee, was _do _Jasper. All _day_, all _night_. There would be plenty of time for foreplay and sultry strip teases in the hotel room he had conveniently chosen, right down the hall from mine. And right now, I'd been ready for this moment since take-off.

"My goodness, did milk do _your _body good," Jasper said, melting me with the slight southern drawl that he let slip from time to time…usually, when we were throwing caution to the night skies.

I began unbuttoning my shirt, but his eager fingers did the work for me, and before I could remove my bra, he hummed, "Leave it. I like you in lace."

My claws came out as I pushed him against the wall and rubbed my hands slowly down his stomach and to the inside of his thighs. "God, _Alice_…" he said through gritted teeth.

His breath was coming in rhythmic anticipation, and his fists tightened before reaching out, grasping under my arms and along the sides of my breasts. My own center practically sizzled as I felt him in my hand, all hot and firm, and magnificent.

"Baby," I whispered against his neck, still encompassing his length, "what can I do? Tell me what you want."

His answer was apparent in both voice and gesticulation--I felt it in my hand, anyway. "You," he said, grunting as I slid my hand through his boxer briefs and palmed his erection, giving him a slow push-and-pull. "Ah, fuck…I want _you_, darlin'."

I rolled my neck and shivered as his hands traveled downward, and slid my matching, lacey bottoms to my knees, and with the same two fingers he'd pressed to his lips earlier, he stroked _me_. I was wet already, doubtlessly soaking his hand, and my breath caught as he circled his thumb over _just _the right spot, making my blood swirl and surge from my head, to my middle, to my toes, and reverse.

I greedily pushed my hips into his touch and pumped him harder, sucking on and kissing his chest, moaning my encouragement as the outside engines rumbled. He moaned his, too. Gravity was against us suddenly--the plane was turning, but we were on air, the both of us.

"_Jasper_," I purred in his ear, feeling a hint of moisture as I closed my hand over his tip, and suddenly, his hands captured mine, and he let his lower body take over the motions. I hitched my leg around his hip, and he grasped it, and we both panted with hot, frantic breath as our sexes caused an erotic friction--we thrust, and pushed, and provided each other with the satisfaction we'd been craving the entire flight.

I felt an increasing build of pressure in my stomach, and I could have sworn that my temperature doubled. "I'm close already, Jazz," I said breathlessly, and he nodded--he was, too. It would be a new record. "I want to feel you deeper. _Please_."

Jasper kissed my mouth with unbridled vigor, and I dug my nails into his back as he rocked his hips three more times before entering me slowly, and I could feel the hot pulse of blood throbbing deep within me--waiting, _yearning _for further action. He filled me completely, and I still wanted more. He held me up as I balanced on one leg and hooked my opposite heel into his back. Against the wall, the planes' vibrations rippled through us, escalating every sensation of him inside me, and I nearly cried out in rapture.

"You're heaven," he whispered, staring at me with his azure, crystal spheres, which were swimming with an electrifying current, and making me soar. He started thrusting again, and my hands went wild. I clutched and scratched his skin, and threaded my fingers through his hair as we drove ourselves closer, climaxing. He groaned, looking on top of the world as he murmured that he was going to come, and I was one step ahead of him as I pressed my mouth to his shoulder, to stifle the ecstasy-induced cries of my own orgasm. He followed soon after, and we grasped each others' bodies in tight clasps, granting kisses as we calmed.

For now, it wasn't the plane that had taken me above thirty-five thousand feet--it was him: all sparkling eyes and feverish lips; golden hair and muscle, and warmth; he was mine, and I was his.

And I would continue to let him take me higher, as long as he would have me.

-:-

**M'kay. That was my first time writing characters sexin' it up. Ever. Do I need to take Writing Smut 101? Or did I do okay for an (absolute) amateur?**


	14. Platonic

-:-

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

Prompt: 11. Platonic

Pen name: bananapancakes7

Pairing: Jasper/Bella

Rating: K+

-:-

"I can taste the wind," I told him, swallowing the sweet dryness as it invaded my mouth again. "Nothing like northern air, huh?"

Jasper smiled, staring up into the colorful sky, which we had been avidly admiring. His blueberry pine scent was swirling with nature's fragrance, and I grinned back, comforted by his presence.

Our time together was therapeutic: he kept me calm, and I shielded him from the constant chaos of emotion and pain that he often intercepted from the outside world.

"Silly girl," he responded, taking my hand and giving me a friendly squeeze. "I'm a southern boy."


	15. Heart

-:-

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

Prompt: 6. Heart

Pen name: bananapancakes7

Pairing: Carlisle/Edward

Rating: T

-:-

Amber mist and caramel clouds rolled across the hazy sky, and the sun was barely peeking through, sprinkling the water's horizon with a shimmering glint. Edward and I sat in a shadowed part of the sand, letting the waves rush over our feet.

This sort of tranquility was precious, and I wished to give him as much peace as possible. I was endlessly haunted by the decision I'd made to take his humanity, debating on whether or not it had done nothing but _torture _him instead of save him, and he knew it; over the past several months, he'd given me constant glances with his soulful eyes, parting his lips with either potential reassurance or argument, or perhaps even concurrence. But he always decided to keep his opinion silent; whether it was for my own benefit, or his own privacy, I wasn't sure.

I watched him pick up a piece of sea glass and begin filing it into a different shape with his razor-sharp fingernail. I pretended not to watch, even though I was interested in what he would come up with, and he finally spoke quietly over the sound of the waves. "Curiosity, Carlisle. You've heard what it's done to cats, haven't you?"

I chuckled. "Are you comparing me to a kitten?"

"A kitten?" he repeated, granting me a small smile--a rare occurrence. "Give yourself some credit."

I breathed a sigh, invigorating my senses with the salty, clean air, and of course, making sure there wasn't a trace of a human's scent amongst the wind. Edward was just past his six-month mark, and though he had done incredibly well in restraining himself for his age, it was better to be safe than sorry. He had impeccable instincts and was already a capable hunter, and continued to learn swiftly; I was impressed by him with each passing day.

Though the sun hadn't emerged from the clouds completely, I still felt a sense of warmth in the moment. Edward had already become like a familial companion, and his decision to remain with me so far, along with his willingness to adapt to my lifestyle, was more than I could have ever hoped for. I found it difficult to express aloud, because in no way was I trying to replace his parents, but I was still unsure about what he wanted from this life. I knew there could come a day when he no longer found solace in our relationship, and he could very well grow to despise me for what I'd done to him. I worried constantly, dreading that such a possibility existed.

"Carlisle," came Edward's voice from my left, drawing my attention away from the crashing waves.

As I turned to him, I realized that I'd foolishly forgotten his gift, again: my thoughts weren't just silent pondering anymore, and he'd just heard everything I had been contemplating. I paused, ready to apologize for making him uncomfortable, but he held up his hand.

"I won't pretend," he started, twirling his self-made creation between his fingers, staring at the sand by his feet. "This life…I wouldn't have chosen it. But I understand why _you _chose for me."

He'd seen it many times for himself--the last memory of his mother through my thoughts, as she begged me with her final words to save him. He knew of my loneliness, and how he and Elizabeth were the first humans I ever felt a bond with, and how his impending death had weighed so heavily on my so-called indestructible shoulders. There was no hiding it, and I was selfishly glad that he could see it so clearly without further explanation, though he most certainly deserved it.

"I don't hate you," Edward continued as another swell and spray of the water surged over our feet. "I can't ever see myself feeling disdain for someone who has such respect for humanity. And if this _life_, as you call it, is what I have now…I'm glad I have you to look up to. You're the closest thing I've got to a father."

His voice was a mixture of gentle sadness and quiet respect, and though I felt for him immensely because of the losses he'd suffered, his words filled the empty cavity in my chest with something I hadn't felt in years: hope. He was accepting my decision, my existence--_me_.

If it had been possible, my deadened insides would have come alive, pulsing with verve from his expressed compassion. The only thing I could do was place my hand on his shoulder, squeezing just enough to let him know how much I appreciated what he said.

_Thank you._

Edward pulled in a long breath of his own, granting me a quick look. "It's only fair for you to know what's in _my _head," he said softly, and held out the newly-shaped piece of sea glass to me, placing it in my open palm before standing. I stared at the little work of art--an animal standing on its hind legs, claws drawn, mane flourishing.

"You're more like a lion, Carlisle," he said as I admired each facet and detail that he had put into the glass in such a short amount of time. "You have heart. You don't scare easily, you fight for what you believe in, and you protect your family--well, me, if you want to call me that. Not exactly kittenish."

I looked up, finally, and he gave me a half-smile before turning to walk along the surf. I watched his careful steps, his keen observation of the atmosphere around us, and suddenly, my worries all but disappeared and I _knew _that we would be okay. Things wouldn't be perfect, or easy--of course they wouldn't. But I had faith that, no matter where our choices took us, we would have each other in the long run, father and son, if he would let me call him so, one day. We were bound eternally, by venom and blood; my heart was with him, and his with me.

-:-

**I'm not sure why, but I was curious about the Cullen crest. I know it's not mentioned in the books, but the idea just sparked in my head while I was writing this and decided to include a possible way of how it could have come about. Hehe.**


	16. Jealousy

-:-

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

Prompt: 7. Jealousy

Pen name: bananapancakes7

Pairing: Rosalie/Alice

Rating: T

-:-

Alice knelt by my side, smoothing my hair tenderly as my toes kicked the broken glass in front of us. "I'll clean up, Rose," she offered.

"No," I said, wrapping my arms around her shoulders and burying my head in her silky collar. Shattering the mirror hadn't been accidental, of course. I had been remembering _him _again, and all that he had taken from me… that monster, Royce King.

Alice had embraced this life with vigor; she didn't recall her humanity, or what she had left behind. As much as I loved her, I felt an equal amount of envy.


	17. Raindrops

-:-

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

Prompt: 14. Raindrops

Pen name: bananapancakes7

Pairing: Alice/Jasper/Edward

Rating: K+

-:-

I'd left Jasper moments ago, reluctantly unwrapping my arms from his waist, so Edward could approach him alone. I avoided my brother's eyes, already feeling the despair and pain radiating in the air with the rain, knowing that it was tenfold for Jasper.

From a distance, I heard my husband's whisper. "Is she okay?"

"Yes."

With one anguished word, flashes of the future invaded my thoughts unexpectedly, and dreadfully. I gasped, rushing back and grabbing Edward's hand. _No, Edward._

But his face was defeated, and in that moment, a new storm was brewing, and the present raindrops turned to razorblades.

-:-

**New Moon's been on my mind lately. Wonder why… **


	18. Sour

-:-

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

Prompt: 18. Sour

Pen name: bananapancakes7

Pairing: Renesmee/Jacob/Edward

Rating: T

-:-

I tapped my toes in rhythm with my slight rocking, arms crossed tightly over my chest, sucking my bottom lip under the top with a fierce displeasure.

_Gross._

"Nessie--"

"Shut up, Jake," I hissed, half a step from biting his damn head off at that moment.

"It's not what you think--"

"It is too! You made out with my _mom_! I don't care how many years ago it was! That's… _disgusting_!" I huffed, looking up as my dad entered the room to pick up his music folder.

"You tell him, baby," Dad said, chuckling, throwing a knowing look at Jacob.

-:-

**Yeah, I was a little horrified at writing 'Dad' but oh well. *snicker***


	19. Play

-:-

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

Prompt: 12. Play

Pen name: bananapancakes7

Pairing: Edward/Bella; Jasper/Alice

Rating: M

-:-

"Two Jacks."

I studied the look on Jasper's face and he squinted his eyes, trying to make me laugh. _We'll see, Jazz. _Very lightly, I felt two taps on my foot from under the table. She had two. And I had one.

"Bullshit," I declared, smiling.

Jasper pressed his lips together, sucking in his breath through his nose, and picked up the pile of cards lying in the center of the table. His deck was nearly as thick as Edward's, while mine and Alice's remained slim, save for the few times we both had to pick up from the discarded pile.

"Well?" Alice said, raising her eyebrows with a smirk. "Come on, now."

Jasper sighed and glanced at Edward, who shrugged his shoulders--his _bare _shoulders. "Don't look at me, man," Edward said. "We agreed."

"Yeah, whatever," Jasper grunted, then pulled off his shirt in one fluid motion. He slung it over his shoulder and Alice promptly snatched it away.

"No covering up--that's cheating," she said, pursing her lips as she shamelessly admired Jasper's chest. "Not like you have anything to be shy about, baby. You look perfect."

Edward closed his eyes, muffling a cough, which vaguely sounded like '_Jesus Christ,'_ and I cleared my throat, snapping Alice out of her fantasy stare. "Your turn, Al."

Alice laughed at the look on Edward's face and nudged him. "Oh, come on, I never say anything when I catch you ogling Bella's ass every time she walks, stands up, bends over--"

"How about you take your _turn_, Alice?" I interjected, rolling my eyes. "These boys aren't going to get naked voluntarily."

Bullshit had been my idea. _Strip _Bullshit had been Alice's. Jasper and Edward had agreed, of course, looking forward to seeing their girlfriends losing their clothes. But they didn't know about Alice's and my secret alliance under the table.

"Okay, okay," she said, grinning, and laying a new card, facedown, on the table. "One Queen."

The table fell silent and the boys rummaged through their hands, and Alice shot me a calculating glance. Eventually, Edward and Jasper surfaced from their sea of cards and studied Alice. She simply beamed at them, and Edward finally looked at me.

"What?" I asked innocently.

He scrutinized my face, running his thumb under his lip in thought. "Why don't you two don't ever 'bullshit' each other?"

I froze for a second, feeling Alice's stare burning me from the opposite end of the table. "Because I believe her," I finally answered, raising my eyebrows at him and playing with collar of my shirt. "And I'm not about to challenge the truth when nudity is involved."

Edward sucked in his cheeks and gave Alice one more glimpse. "Bullshit," he finally declared.

"Ha!" Alice cried playfully, and flipped the card over to reveal a colorful, mocking queen. "Nice try, Eddie."

Edward cringed at his childhood nickname and snatched the card off the table, adding it to his hand. "It's only one card," he mumbled.

"Yes, but what are you going to take off?" I asked, grinning at him in anticipation. "I think you're out of options."

He'd already lost his shoes, socks, and both shirts. I knew that he didn't usually go commando under his pants, but by the look on his face, I suddenly wasn't so sure. He sighed, stood up, and started to undo his jeans. Alice hid her eyes while Jasper laughed, shaking his head, and I watched every bit of the scene on tenterhooks: button undone, check; zipper down, check; denim sliding down his muscular legs, check; brandishing my favorite pair of his black _Calvin Klein_ boxer briefs…for the love of _God_, check.

"Edward, hurry up and take your turn before Bella starts climaxing right here at the fucking table," I heard Jasper call out, before he said, "Alice, you really aren't uncomfortable watching your brother get naked?"

Alice snorted as I tried to regain my mental focus. "I'm not watching _him_," she said, and indeed her eyes were planted on Jasper's half-exposed body again. "Besides, it's nothing I haven't seen before. He used to run around naked all the time when we were fifteen, screaming something about being allergic to clothes."

"I was allergic to the _laundry detergent_, thank you very much," Edward said, settling back into his seat. "And I _slept _without clothes on, and you used to barge into my room without knocking just to steal my CDs."

"He slept in Esme's pink, silky bathrobe once, too," Alice added, casting me an amused look.

"_Four _Kings," Edward said loudly, slamming four cards onto the table, glaring at Alice.

No one challenged him; with the amount of cards he was holding and his lack of garments, he was most likely telling the truth. Plus, I didn't feel Alice tap my foot to let me know if she had any. I put down "one Ace," which was really a ten of spades, but surprisingly, no one challenged me, either. Alice and I shared a pleased look; we had them _right _where we wanted them--nearly nude and scared of us.

"Three twos," Jasper said, tossing some cards to the middle of the pile.

_Sneaky attempt, Hale. _I had two of his '_three twos' _and there could only be four in total. I stretched out my foot and tapped Alice's leg twice, but she simply looked over her cards and didn't show any sign of response. I glanced at Edward, who eyed me curiously before poring over his own hand again. I extended my foot again, brushing the table leg, and gave Alice another two, slight kicks.

"_Really_, Bella?" Edward said, shifting in his chair. "You want to play footsies while I'm in nothing but boxers? I don't exactly have a ton of self-control looking at you in that tank top."

Jasper let out a humorous laugh, and I felt my cheeks grow warm. I'd been kicking _Edward_; either that, or the "table leg" I'd felt was _his _leg. "I wasn't playing _footsies _with you," I said quickly, "I was trying to get Alice--"

Alice's eyes widened, then, and I snapped my mouth shut. _Shit. Good job, blowhard! _Edward's mouth dropped open, but Jasper snickered.

"You were playing footsies with _Alice_?" Jasper asked, a wide grin spreading over his face.

"Uh…bullshit, Jazz!" Alice blurted out, pointing to the cards on the table.

"Whoa, wait--no--" Edward said, standing up in all his boxer-brief glory, and started to laugh. "_This _is bullshit! You're cheating!" He stared at Jasper. "They're kicking each other under the table in some fucking team strategy, just to get us naked!"

"N-no, no, we're not," I said, but I could tell that my flaming cheeks were giving me away, and the bewildered looks on both his and Jasper's faces were priceless. Alice sputtered, trying to hold back laughter, and I lost it, hiding my giggles behind my cards.

"You little _vixen_!" Jasper exclaimed, pushing himself out of his chair and grabbing Alice. She laughed in delight as he slung her over his shoulder and ran out the back door, down to the pool deck. I stood up, too, and Edward and I watched in amusement as Jasper tossed a screaming Alice into the pool, cannon-balling in after her.

I sucked in my breath and turned to Edward, nervously twisting my hair around my finger. "So…what are you going to do to _me_?"

He raised his eyebrows as he ran his hand through his hair, and then gave me a devious gaze. "Well, I think I'm going to make you play a different game, for starters. And it would only be reasonable if you took off _your _clothes for the entirety."

He suddenly lunged at me and it was my turn to scream as he scooped me up in his arms, pulling me tight to his chest. "And since you can't play fair down _here_," he said, whispering close to my ear, "maybe you can make it up to me in the bedroom."

I wrapped my arms around his neck and sighed at the feel of his warm skin and muscles, and nibbled under his ear. "I like the sound of that game," I said, smirking.

He kissed me suavely, sparking my lips with his energy. "Well, let's go get you undressed, then."

I giggled all the way up the stairs.

-:-

In case anyone is wondering about Bullshit, the card game, go to http://www[dot]pagat[dot]com/beating/cheat[dot]html to see what it's all about. ;)


	20. Vivid

-:-

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

Prompt: 21. Vivid

Pen name: bananapancakes7

Pairing: James/Victoria

Rating: T

-:-

Fountains of luminous, ruby tresses whipped in the wind, and the creature turned, face full of bloodlust: a newborn. Her crimson eyes were vibrantly full of wonder and malevolence, and she growled brashly, snarling, flashing her gleaming teeth that shone like a star against the darkest sky.

I inhaled, and knew instantly that her perfume and body were _made _for me. I curled my finger, beckoning her forward; she slowly walked closer, studying my every inch, and suddenly, like an electrified magnet, she came. And she was glowing. She wanted me, too.

We would ravage together; we would be brilliant.


	21. Worship

-:-

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

Prompt: 25. Worship

Pen name: bananapancakes7

Pairing: Jane/Aro

Rating: K+

-:-

I watched Aro with admiration as he created a cool, strict, and tense atmosphere for our visitors. It was absolutely _unthinkable _that one of our kind would refuse such an opportunity to serve under my master. Yet, here Edward Cullen stood _again_, still refusing, protecting a senseless _human_, no less.

Aro's eyes were flashing between bemusement and expectation, and as he looked at me, his face relaxed subtly. "I was wondering, my dear one, if Bella is immune to _you_."

He knew I lived to please him, and he was trusting me to overcome this little girl's mystery. I smiled.


	22. Light

-:-

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

Prompt: 9. Light

Pen name: bananapancakes7

Pairing: Carlisle

Rating: K+

-:-

The sunlight crept closer to my shadowed corner, and I braced myself, bowing my head to pray my last words. The slivered beam hit my feet first, and I cringed.

_God, forgive me._

Seconds passed, and needless to say, I was shocked that I felt no pain. Tentatively, I reached out, and gasped aloud when my fingers entered the light.

Like sunbeams on the ocean, my skin was glittering, resembling crushed diamonds, and a spectrum of stunning colors reflected into my eyes. I stared for a long time, admiring the luminosity that was radiating from my newly bloodless skin.

_Astonishing._

_

* * *

_

**I'm not sure what kind of vampire lore was brewing back in Carlisle's day, but I suppose the whole 'vampires turn to ash in sunlight' thing might have been a rumor**. **I always wondered about Carlisle's reaction to first seeing himself in the sun, but I'm also fulfilling my craving to write Carlisle... *sigh***


	23. Touch

-:-

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

Prompt: 20. Touch

Pen name: bananapancakes7

Pairing: Edward/Bella

Rating: M

-:-

Sweat trickled down my temple, and the scratchy fabric of my collar was choking me, rubbing my skin raw. I couldn't breathe in this room; not with my family sobbing their silent tears. Not with the scent of stale carpet mixing with perfumed flowers. Not with my father's casket lying wide open, his face so frozen and lifeless.

As I hurried toward the door, I nearly knocked over a wooden podium, which was holding a guest book full of signatures from people I had never met. Maybe they were Carlisle's patients, or colleagues. I didn't understand the use of having these strangers sign a goddamned _book_, as though one day, all of us would sit down and go through the names, saying: "Oh, remember this guy at Dad's funeral? What a great night that was!" Or, I supposed, it was just a list so we could send thank you notes. Were people so twisted that they really needed to receive _gratitude_ for stopping by to say 'I'm so sorry for your loss_?'_

Fucking useless formalities.

I mumbled '_excuse me's' _and '_thank you's' _as I brushed by some of the guests, who quickly offered me their sympathies and hands on my shoulder, heaving audible sighs of relief once they had their chance to speak to me--it was an odd, awkward situation, and I didn't blame them for wanting to get it over with.

I reached the hallway and stood frozen for a moment. The orange carpet was garish and nauseating, and I glanced at the end of the corridor, wondering if I should bolt to the bathroom to splash my face before I puked in front of everyone. And if I didn't, maybe I could even steal a swig of scotch from the flask that was hidden in my blazer. Although, that idea went south as soon as I saw a man enter the restroom, holding the hands of two little boys, one of whom was screaming for something called a _ninny_. Fuck that.

I could hear echoes of conversation from the lobby downstairs, and I figured the parking lot was probably full of nervous, chatty relatives and visitors, and I wasn't in the mood for mindless small talk. The other end of the hall was holding a different viewing, but at the far point was a glass door--a balcony, from the looks of it. And it seemed unoccupied.

I walked quickly, trying to blend in with the rest of the suits, in hopes that no distant cousin or uncle would follow me out to have another cigar "in the old man's name."

_Old. _Forty-seven hadn't been fucking old. Death had snatched Carlisle faster than the blink of an eye, before anyone could even rationalize what was happening. My siblings were devastated, and Esme had taken it the worst, of course. And then there was me, the golden child, who had followed in Daddy's footsteps, all the way through medical school and beyond. And in the end, when it came down to it, I couldn't save him, either. Doctors were baffled, and even Carlisle had smirked at his own medical test results, saying, "Well, son, I suppose I'll give the diagnosticians some hell to sort through. Bastards deserve a challenge."

I could still hear his voice as if he was speaking directly into my ear, and the memory was dizzying. My hands shook as I pushed the door open, and an upsurge of frigid wind hit me like a wave, instantly ceasing my breath. I didn't fucking care. I had undergone plenty of stress within the past few days, and no matter how fucking cold it was, I was going to take a goddamned breath of fresh air.

The door shut behind me and I moved to the left of the balcony, far enough so that I wouldn't be seen from the inside. Ignoring the chairs, I leaned on the railing and took slow, deep breaths, trying to wash away the pain, confusion, and chaos of the past forty-eight hours. All I wanted was a respite--a few moments to feel nothing, because my chest was on fire and every single piece and part of me was drained from putting on a strong face all weekend.

The veranda's door suddenly swung open, and I closed my eyes, sucking in my breath, trying to restrain from telling whoever it was to go the _fuck _away so I could have my moment of uninterrupted peace. Because, if I couldn't, I was going to tell them to clear another viewing room because _I _was going to jump off the balcony.

"Hey."

Sweet and quiet, as always. I let my breath out in a misty, white cloud and turned to see Bella step away from the door, which closed with a swish. She pulled the sleeves of her white sweater, a crisp contrast from her dark blue dress, which she had undoubtedly worn because Carlisle made everyone swear not to wear black. I hadn't listened.

"I'm sorry I left you," she said, walking over to stand beside me. "Esme was introducing me to your cousins and I didn't want to be rude…"

"It's all right." My voice sounded so foreign and aloof, and I hoped she wouldn't take the tone seriously. I _felt _far away, honestly, and while her presence was soothing, it was harder to fold into myself while she was standing there. She'd been so supportive already, helping my sisters and Esme with arrangements and flowers, and whatever the fuck else happened when someone died. She'd been there for me, too, and I had brushed off her concern, simply stating that it hadn't sunk in, yet, and how I needed time to process it on my own. I'd watched her take my mother's hand in comfort, console Alice and Rosalie with her arms--even hug my brothers--and I _still _couldn't bring myself to let her do the same for me; not even _one _touch.

I kept my eyes forward, though I turned my head _just _enough so that I could see her in my peripherals, and she mirrored my stance, leaning her elbows on the railing and peering out over the parking lot and trees.

"It's cold," she remarked, hunching her shoulders.

I nodded, feeling the sweat cool and dry on my forehead as the wind blew. My hands were already growing numb, but I welcomed the feeling, wishing it could cut through my clothes and anesthetize the _rest _of me. We stood in silence for awhile, and she inched closer to me, knocking my elbow with hers.

"Want me to get you a cup of that cheap shit they call coffee?" she asked, her tone light. I'd asked her not to coddle me with heavy, melancholy words, and she was keeping her promise. "It's pretty vicious, but I don't think one will hurt you. Emmett, on the other hand, I'm worried for. He's had six cups, and he said he's going for ten. I told him all that'll get him is coffee coming out both ends."

I scoffed, thinking that Emmett _would _do a dipshit thing like that, no matter what event he was attending. "No, I'm fine," I answered, trying to keep the scorn out of my voice. She didn't deserve that.

Bella played with her fingers, spinning her ring around on her right ring finger--the sapphire I'd given her for her birthday last year. She always spun it when she was bored, or nervous. And right now, I was fairly certain that she was the latter.

"Do you…still need some space?" she finally asked, and I granted myself one look at her. Her chestnut curls blew softly in the wind, and her cheeks were rosy--either from the cold or just her natural self-consciousness. She was beautiful, both inside and out, and if I hadn't been so fucking morose, I would have pulled her into my arms and told her so.

I sighed, rubbing my face with my hands, wondering when my body would just stop aching so badly. I _did _want space. I wanted to disappear and not resurface until I knew how to deal with this--with everything. "Yes."

I narrowed my eyes to see her push her hair behind her ears, and fumble with the buttons on her sweater. "Okay," she answered softly, letting her fingers trail the edge of the icy, metal rail. "I'll be inside, then. Are you sure you don't need anything?"

I shook my head, squeezing my temples, feeling absolutely clueless as to what I needed. I was sinking, slowly, and wished the answer would come to me before I went below the surface. I wasn't sure how much longer I could keep up this façade. The constriction in my throat tightened, suddenly, as I realized she was reaching for my shoulder.

I whipped my head toward her before she could lay a hand on me, quickly blurting out, "_Don't_."

Her fingers wavered in the air, slowly curling back into her palm and she dropped her arm. At first, I thought she might turn on her heel and leave, muttering curses under her breath at my behavior, but instead, she stared at me thoughtfully, biting the inside of her lip.

"Why won't you let me touch you?" Bella asked, her eyes pouring affecting concern. "You allow your family to hug you or hold your hand. Strangers, even. But not me."

I inhaled another wintry lungful of air, feeling ashamed, stupid, and like a complete asshole. I honestly didn't know why the thought of her embrace sent me into a near-panic, but every time she got too close, I felt the need to step away--I knew I couldn't hide my vulnerability from her.

_That's why you're pushing. You're afraid to fall apart in front of your girlfriend._

It was damn near laughable. It wasn't unusual for anyone to cry or be upset over someone's death; I'd seen it hundreds of times as patients slipped away and families fell to their knees over the loss, and no one _ever _made a judgment. I was so used to keeping a straight face and being supportive, yet professional, in my career. This was new.

"Edward," Bella said, extending her hand again, and still, I flinched.

"I said don't _fucking _touch me," I hissed, and instantly, her soft features melted into a wounded expression. The words stung _me_, even, and I waited again, breathing heavily, for her to leave or slap me, or yell. Instead, she resolutely took a step closer and looked straight at me, even though I was stubbornly keeping my face forward.

"You don't get to do that," she said in a hurt whisper. "I don't care what happens--you aren't allowed to tell me when I can show you that I love you, and when I can't."

I stiffened as her hand lightly stroked my back, trying to remember how to breathe as the air around me grew warm. Bella leaned in, and I closed my eyes as her soft lips pecked my cheek. "I _do _love you," she said gently. "Deal with it."

The atmosphere turned cold again as soon as she stepped away. I turned my head to watch her fix her hair and straighten her dress; she was going back inside. As her hand grabbed the door's handle, I suddenly wanted to reach for her and pull her back, but my arms were locked, and my legs were like rusted weights, securing me in place.

"Bella," I called, and almost immediately, my chest seemed to burst with new slices of anguish, each one bleeding an unwanted toxin into everything sturdy I had built up, and I was starting to crumble from the erosion. "Don't go, okay? I'm sorry--I just need--"

She let go of the door and it whooshed shut, blowing her dress in a rippled sequence before she moved to my side again. I dug my fingers into my hair, breathing through the sweltering heat that was suddenly in my throat.

"I don't know how to _do _this," I confessed, bending above the railing, shaking my head bitterly. "I can't even think about him being gone. I can't even _process _it."

Bella listened quietly, wringing her fingers. I could tell she was debating on whether or not to pull me into her arms, and I _hated _myself for ever telling her to keep her hands to herself. I would have to touch her first--as soon as every fucking fiber of my being wasn't engulfed in an inferno.

"Christ, I can't breathe," I mumbled, tugging at my collar and leaning against the brick wall, figuring if I was going to pass out, I probably shouldn't lean over the balcony. My vision turned gray and fuzzy, and I felt Bella's hands push down on my shoulders, shoving me into a chair.

"It's all right, you're okay," she reassured me, and for a moment, I felt like I was choking again--only to realize she was loosening my tie and unbuttoning my collar. I gasped in a breath as the chilly air hit my neck, and then almost all of the suffocating heat was extinguished as I felt my blazer slide down my arms.

My surroundings were hazy for another few moments, or maybe a few minutes. I remembered Bella telling me to breathe, to look at her, to relax…when I opened my eyes, my face was in her hands, and she was gently caressing my cheek. She'd pulled the other chair next to me, sitting with her legs in the opposite direction as mine, leaving us practically shoulder-to-shoulder.

Bella sighed, brushing her fingers through my hair, and pursed her lips. "Are you okay?"

I winced at the fleeting feeling of dizziness and nodded, feeling exceedingly overloaded. I glanced up at the sky, the stars stinging my eyes with their piercing glow, and then comprehended that _tears _were the cause of the prickle. "Shit," I muttered, swiping my eyes with my sleeve, feeling the slow, taunting burn in my chest again. It was a wonder that I could feel anything burning in such bitter weather. "Sorry."

Bella's hands moved down to my shoulders and squeezed gently, and surprisingly, some of the pain diminished. She looked away for a moment before inhaling shakily. "You don't have to be sorry for missing him," she whispered. "I miss him, too."

And then, the fire was back in a rage, gripping my ribs like prison bars until I was physically trembling. I sucked in my breath, trying desperately to bite back the pain--the kind that didn't come from injury or sickness--just one of grief. "_God_, this hurts," I breathed, cradling my head in my hands.

"Edward…" Bella said, sounding distraught, and I felt her pull my shirt. "Won't you let me hold you?"

My whole body craved her touch at that moment--I _needed_ her. It killed me that she'd been trying all along and I'd been too obstinate to see that _she _was my comfort, not phantom emotional walls, or blank, empty stares into space. It was all Bella.

"_Please_," I sobbed, every bit of sadness spilling over at once, and that's all she needed to hear. I was in her arms at once, and her chest crashed into mine. Her every stroke, squeeze, caress, and graze cooled the burn inside me, and with every new surge of anguish, she was my relief, and moved to douse the pain before it could consume me.

I clung to her urgently, and her hands were medicinal, and little by little, I began healing in small places. My breath was uneven as her lips brushed my cheeks, kissing under my eyes to soak up the tears, and I felt her fingers slide over my face to remove the drops she couldn't catch. After awhile, I was too tired to cry, and simply lay slumped against her as she gently massaged my head. I was practically asleep when I heard the door swish open again.

Reluctantly lifting my head from Bella's shoulder, I met Emmett's mournful eyes. My brother shifted his weight, looking sorry that he was interrupting, but I could tell by his expression that it was for a good reason.

"It's, um…it's our time to say our last goodbye, you know? Just the family?" he said, pushing his hands into his pockets.

I pressed my face into Bella's neck, inhaling her fresh, fruity scent, and cleared my throat. "We'll be right there," I murmured, and Bella's arms wrapped around my back again. I only looked up again after I heard the door close.

I could see the sadness and fear swimming in Bella's eyes as she gazed up at me, letting her fingers linger at my collar, sweeping my skin in little, light taps. My hands shook as I cupped her face, pressing my lips to each cheek before her mouth, and she kissed me back gently, warmly. I didn't want it to end…kissing her was so familiar and lovely, and soothing. When I did finally pull back, I kept my forehead pressed against hers and we sat for a few moments, not needing words. Her embrace was more consolation than anything.

"I love you, too, you know," I said eventually, though I was about twenty minutes late. "I'll never stop."

She gave me a faint smile and kissed me once more. "Neither will I."

With that, she carefully buttoned my shirt and retied my tie, and I watched her thoughtfully. She always touched me so lovingly, and I promised myself that I would _not _take these moments for granted, or overlook something as simple as a gesture ever again. When she was finished, I slid my arms through my jacket and stood up, helping Bella to her feet.

"One second," I said, reaching into my chest pocket and pulling out the scotch flask. "It's Carlisle's. He used to have a drink every Christmas, and that was it for the year. And since it's only a few days away…do you care if I…?"

Bella shook her head, and I sighed, unscrewing the lid and raising the flask to the sky.

_Cheers, Dad._

I took a swallow and cringed, coughing from the blaze that traveled down my throat. Before I could put it away, Bella held out her hand.

"Can I?" she asked timidly.

She was always surprising me. Without question, I handed her the whiskey.

"Here's to Carlisle," she said softly. I watched in awe as she took a mouthful, swallowed, and winced, clamping her hand over her mouth for a few moments. Finally, she blew her breath out and said, "I think he'd be proud that we did that."

I chuckled lowly and tucked the flask back into my jacket. "Yeah, he probably would."

Bella took my hand and led me to the door, pulling it open for the both of us. As we walked down the hallway, she pressed herself against my side, squeezing my hand in hers and rubbing my arm with the other. It was her silent assurance that she was with me, and I found solace that, with her contact, now I could find the strength to say goodbye.

-:-

Yeah. I have no idea where this came from. My mind is bizarre. I'm waiting for someone to deliver me a very famous South Park line…


	24. Soft

-:-

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

Prompt: 17. Soft

Pen name: bananapancakes7

Pairing: Emmett/Rosalie

Rating: T

-:-

I knew there was blood. I could feel it pouring down my mangled face and bubbling in the back of my throat. Death was approaching; soon, I would be nothing but a corpse, and hard, jagged slabs of mountain would be my tomb. Rocks slid, moving the earth around me. The bear had come back to finish me off.

I groaned as it lifted me in its arms, and my breath ceased as my eyes locked on the beautiful woman in front of me.

I hadn't been expecting an angel to escort me to Hell. Maybe God had gone soft.


	25. Plea

Dare I attempt a Breaking Dawn moment? Dare I?

* * *

-:-

**The Twilight Twenty-Five**

Prompt: 13. Plea

Pen name: bananapancakes7

Pairing: Carlisle/Edward

Rating: K+

-:-

"I wasn't aware you'd become a Thoreau enthusiast," I remarked.

Edward had excused himself during Bella's x-ray, and to find him in my office wasn't a surprise. He was crouched by my bookcase, running his hand over a book, and didn't acknowledge my presence. I placed my hand on his back and the hardback fell to the floor with a deadened thump.

"Please," he whispered, but he was not speaking to me. The book hadn't been what I had thought; he'd been holding my bible.

My son, for the first time in his vampiric existence, was knelt in desperate prayer.

* * *

-:-

I can't believe I finished this challenge. I'm in shock, honestly. Thank you to all of those who've left me such gracious words and encouragement, and it was great to have you along for the ride. This was fun! I'll probably do it again, one day, but I think I have to take care of "The Woods" for awhile, because I'm starting to receive curious, "upset," and even threatening messages on my lack of updating. *snort* Chill, ladies (and gents, if you're out there), I would never give up on that. 'Kay? ;) Thanks again, everyone.

Please be sure to visit http://community[dot]livejournal[dot]com/thetwilight25 to join the community so you can vote for your favorites! That doesn't mean go vote for me. That means go vote for anyone! Voting won't start just yet, but keep a look-out, perhaps. ;) A lot of very talented authors have written some fabulous works--check them out while you're waiting! I may come back and post outtakes of ideas that I had, but never used, just for kicks. Maybe. ;)

Also, big huge hugs and special thanks to queenofgrey for setting this up, and for spending her time sorting through the hundreds upon hundreds of submissions...there's a lot. Poor girl needs a cocktail. Love you, Jes! Thanks for talking me into participating! *heart*


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